Everybody Loves "Silver Machine"

Hawkwind - Silver Machine

If there was ever a genre of music that was idiosyncratically European it was the brief period that spawned space rock. Strafing through the first half of the Seventies, space rock blew minds all over Europa and hardly made a dent in the United States. Psychedelia mixed with sci-fi and surreal theatrics, bands like Hawkwind, Magma, Gong and Amon Duul, to name a few, took Pink Floyd's blueprint for musical madness and took it ten steps further.

If space rock ever produced a hit single for the Top 40 charts it was the insanely catchy rocker "Silver Machine" sung by none other than future heavy metal hero Lemmy Kilmeister, then Hawkwind's bass guitarist. Originally released in 1972, it ripped brains apart with a locomotive 4/4 beat, hypnotic guitar power chords and enough white noise to keep the space heads happy. Silver Machine was a million seller that enjoyed repeat releases selling millions and topping the charts every time.

Silver Machine features lyrics that recall hot rod songs from the Sixties making space travel exciting with promise of a thrilling ride. Who wouldn't want to jet away to the cosmos on a supersonic space craft with topless dancers and Lemmy toking a joint with you?

Sex Pistols - Silver Machine

You can't keep a great rock & roll song down so naturally Silver Machine has had its share of covers, and what wild covers to choose from. Pictured above are The Sex Pistols from their last tour playing the space classic. The song fits in so perfectly with The Pistols' oeuvre it's positively uncanny: Steve Jones summoning up Mick Ronson's power chording, Paul Cook's behemoth foot stomp and John Lydon topping it all with insane abandon. Miles, nay, light years cooler than "Holidays In The Sun".

James Last - Silver Machine

Just as nutty is James Last's hipster big band cover with musicians looking like Eurotrash porn stars and rockin' out with vintage Blood, Sweat & Tears style aplomb. Thank God they sound better than they look! Love this one. By the way, if Mr. Last wants to cover the Trash Can School songbook I would be thrilled beyond belief!

Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain - Silver Machine

Rounding out our tribute to Silver Machine is a brilliant and unexpected version from the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain, happily chugging away on their exotic gee-tars and sending me to outer space via the UK, Maui-style. One wonders what other uke gods like Tiny Tim and Arthur Godfrey would have done with the same tune. These guys are great.

Every time I hear Silver Machine I just want to get up and dance and I know I'm not the only one. The song's been played in countless TV shows - all European, of course - like the awesome comedy Manchild as well as others. I'm looking forward to hearing more versions of Silver Machine to come, the weirder the better.

Rock & Roll Confidential Part 9

One of the most attractive releases of 1971 was an import LP that looked like a cross between a Command Records stereo demonstration album and a Euro techno album, when in fact it was neither. It was the second release from Curved Air, simply titled “Curved Air Second Album”, following up their dazzling picture disc from the year before, “Airconditioning”. The album performed well with British listeners, peaking at #11 on the album charts.

Curved Air was a product of their time, less prog and more like a hard rock band with lush symphonic sounds courtesy of Darryl Way and Francis Monkman’s keyboards and violin playing. Many of the sonic textures on the album recall Euro sex horror films of that time, sounding like they belonged in a Jean Rollin or Mario Bava movie. In addition to the vampire opera vibe of their sound was the presence of lead singer Sonja Kristina, who wouldn’t look out of place in any of these films, looking like a sister to Ingrid Pitt, Maria Perschy or Soledad Miranda.

Some of the lyrical content focused on wayward urban girls with titles like “Young Mother” and “Back Street Luv”. The pastoral textures of “Piece of Mind”, “Puppets and “Jumbo” have that lush-cum-nightmarish sound that makes me think of movies like “She Killed In Ecstasy” or “Requiem For A Vampire”. Kristina sings in a dreamy falsetto that compliments the Dracula in St. Tropez vibe of the music.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

By the way, here's a picture of Keith Richards serving up some Larry Fine action for you just in case you want to believe he still looks like a badass outlaw. Put that doo rag back on, playa!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

I've always had problems trying to like Kevin Ayers even though I like the idea of a prog-rock troubadour a la the great Peter Hammill. I think the reason I could never embrace him as a serious artist is because he comes off as some lazy bastard who just wants to fuck and get loaded. His records for the most part give off the image of Artist As Vacation Resort Gigolo. Frank Zappa once wrote a song called "Honey, Don't You Want A Man Like Me?" All humor aside, the scary part is that Ayers aounds like he really means it.

An album like "Shooting At The Moon" is pretty indicative of both his strengths and weaknesses, the strengths being great Henry Cow-style jazzy art school workouts like "Shooting At The Moon" and "Colores Para Dolores". The weaknesses come in the form of his bad samba gigolo tunes like "May I?" returning later in a French version just to underscore the sleaze of his advances. The paradox of Ayers is that just when you're ready to slap him for a lech ballad like "Clarence In Wonderland" he counters that with a slice of menace like "Lunatic's Lament".

At first I thought I was being a little hard on everyone's favorite blonde playboy, but even Wikipedia weighed in with, "one of the frustrating and endearing aspects of Ayers' career is that every time he seemed on the point of success, he would take off for some sunny spot where good wine and food were easily found". While I came to praise and not bury Ayers I think his preference to having a good time made his music suffer because the urge for self-indulgence and narcissism spoiled what could have been further records with the daring of "Joy Of A Toy" and "Shooting At The Moon".

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Here's a picture of the Voxmobile, and from what I understand (which means that I'm leaving room for error, so don't scream) is that guitars could be taken off the side of the roadster and played. I also understand that an amplifier is built into the car with an organ in the rumble seat, also. For further information go to http://www.thevoxmobile.com. Imagine that, now that's what I call really rocking on the road.

"A Salty Dog" - Procol Harum (1969)

It all happened one beautiful Sunday afternoon in Beverly Hills. I walked into the Burberry boutique to view their fiendishly fashionable Prorsum line, and the first thing that hit me was “The Wreck of The Hesperus” by Procol Harum booming over the Burberry speaker system. So sweepingly cinematic, it brilliantly complimented the dramatically beautiful and quintessentially British Burberry fashions in the boutique. Matthew Fisher’s airy vocal melodiously drifted through the room, making us all feel as if we were out to sea, singing the maritime lyrics of Keith Reid:

“We’ll hoist a hand, becalmed upon a troubled sea

“Make haste to your funeral”, cries the valkyrie

We’ll hoist a hand or drown amidst this stormy sea

“Here lies a coffin”, cries the cemetery, “You will surely see”…

Majestic English horns blew fanfares while Robin Trower’s guitar conjured an endless seascape as 1,000 strings laid a melodious pattern of sheer ardor. I almost forgot I was supposed to be looking at the new Burberry Prorsum line.

It’s been an eternity since music had the power to transcend its environment, but then again I haven’t owned “A Salty Dog” in years. Although I enjoyed “Shine On Brightly” I forgot how unique “A Salty Dog” was, one of the great albums that never really received the attention it deserved.

Procol Harum released their third album in 1969, an album so eccentric, a much too British maritime-themed album that it turned American listeners away. 1969 was a year for outrageous album covers, i.e. Blind Faith, Trout Mask Replica, and the great Blodwyn Pig cover that still disturbs people, etc. “A Salty Dog” featured a take-off on the Player’s Navy Cut cigarette box; rather than show a respectable English sailor a shaggy gob of indeterminate origin wearing a cap with the name “Herod” stitched on top. That got my five dollars in a flash. I thought it was cooler looking than some ugly naked girl holding a toy plane, really.

Most of the tracks on the album are dirges, the most notable one being the title track, the lyrics articulating feelings of hopelessness on a restless and poorly charted sea. While the keyboards and strings play staccato minor notes, Gary Brooker sings mournfully,

“Across the straits, around the horn: how far can sailors fly?

A twisted path, our tortured course, and no one left alive…”

“We sailed for parts unknown to man, where ships come home to die,

No lofty peak, nor fortress bold, could match our captain’s eye…”

Ironically, while many of the songs allude to distress and despair aboard the ocean blue, the lyrics also define the despair of drug addiction. “The Devil Came From Kansas” reflects these feelings:

“There’s a monkey riding on my back, he’s been there for some time,

He says he knows me very well but he’s no friend of mine…”

“For the turning and the signpost and the road which takes you down,

To that pool inside the forest in whose waters I shall drown…”

While Gary Brooker leads a monkish sounding choir chanting the chorus, Robin Trower’s blistering metal guitar screams over a tattoo of tribal drums, setting this anti-Wizard of Oz fable in a tail-spin with descriptions of “a dark cloud just above us” and “for the sins of those departed and the ones about to go”.

The lost-at-sea analogy as drug damaged casualty is also expressed in the blues dirge of “Crucifiction Lane” (dig the pun):

“Tell the helmsman veer to starboard, bring this ship around to port,

And if the sea was not so salty I could sink instead of walk,

In case of passing strangers who are standing where I fell,

Tell the truth: you never knew me, and in truth it’s just as well”.

In spite of the fact that the tempo to every song is slow like the languid waves of a calm sea (with the exception of “Kansas” and “Hesperus”) there is enough sonic seafaring to keep the record from sounding like one monotonous moan. I don’t know why I set this one to the side, but I’m glad it’s back on my deck. And to think, a trip to Burberry Beverly Hills made it all possible. I wonder what they’re playing tonight?

All lyrics (c) 1969, Keith Reid (Onward Music)

The Out Sound of Psych Jazz

During the late Sixties/early Seventies the psych music scene opened up a jazz underground featuring bands like Blood, Sweat & Tears and the Chicago Transit Authority, who unraveled into some of the worst music ever recorded. One listen to a piece of dump like “Spinning Wheel” is as good evidence as you can get. Fortunately the European music scene had a much more exciting take on psych jazz that spawned many cool bands that only lasted a few years, but left us with some remarkable records. The fact that psych jazz has remained a virtually unheralded genre is a mystery to me, so let’s take a quick look at the best of the beast:

1. Chapter Three – Manfred Mann helmed this big band in between his English Invasion group and the Eighties-driven Earth Band. They only released two albums but the music has a seething, quiet intensity that’s compelling. The horn charts are simple to the point of being linear, but when they stretch out and solo all hell breaks loose. Recommended tracks are “Time” and “One Way Glass”. The whispery vocals wear thin after awhile, so it’s no surprise they had such a short shelf life.

2. The Flock – The only American band in the bunch (from Chicago, even), but pretty cool. Their big gimmick outside of having a badass biker looking-horn section was introducing Jerry Goodman on electric violin to the world. Fred Glicksman’s superfuzz acid-rock guitar is pretty amazing, too, but they veer into comedy territory when they employ opera falsetto backing vocals delivered with a scary earnestness. For coolness listen to “Store Bought Store Thought”, for comedy listen to “I Am The Tall Tree”. They also had the balls to take composing credit for The Kinks’ “Tired of Waiting” (complete with operatic falsetto backing vox!). Another band that lasted for two albums.

3. If – This band consisted of a bunch of session guys gone wild, so their music occasionally sounds like an orange juice commercial, but when they tear loose on “What Did I Say About The Box, Jack?” the horns twist and unravel like a bed of snakes. Their first album cover showing a bold, iron “IF” will forever be imprinted in my mind and sold the band for me. After two albums they went kinda snoozy fusion with the ugliest New Age LP artwork ever designed, so I recommend the first album only.

4. Nucleus – Ian Carr, ace British trumpeter, put together this great jazz band featuring Chris Spedding (!) on guitar. They’re heavily influenced by the new electric sound Miles Davis was toting in 1969 with a slightly rockier edge. Sans vocals, the band’s horn charts alternate from linear to complex. The great thing about the bands mentioned here is that they’re very democratic and allow every player to stretch out, a true rarity in these days of massive rock egos, so the soprano sax player gets to rip some scorching solos, too. “We’ll Talk About It Later” is the recommended album, actually once Chris Spedding left the coolness left with him. Big surprise.

5. Colosseum – Love the early records by Colosseum. If you can imagine Cream with a screeching organist and a wiggy sax player you get a basic idea of what these guys did. The Cream connection was completely intentional as their lyricist Pete Brown wrote many of their lyrics (the amazing “Jumping Off The Sun”) and they even covered Jack Bruce’s “Rope Ladder To The Moon” before he did. The band included the Ginger Baker-sounding Jon Hiseman (from John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers) and the legendary Dick Heckstall-Smith (from the Graham Bond Organisation). Their version of “Bolero” is the only one I can listen to, and once you hear their art school meets carnival fairground sound you’ll be hooked.

6. John Mayall – For a few years John Mayall got tired of losing drummers, and they were too loud, anyway, so he dispensed with them for a few years. He added the excellent John Almond on sax and flute and created a completely original style of electric jazz-blues that was compelling. Around that time his lyrics were about fucking chicks in Laurel Canyon, fires in Laurel Canyon, getting stoned in Laurel Canyon, so imagine this weird, spooky music with hedonistic hippie words floating around, sort of a hippie Suicide. Guitarist Jon Mark and John Almond later formed a band with the same sound, but Mayall did it better. Because he’s John Mayall. Recommended is “The Turning Point”, and “California” is the best song, and there are many tunes about Laurel Canyon you can listen to, heh!

Several bands became famous and made millions playing their take on psych jazz but pretty much descended into blatant progressive rock, like Jethro Tull, The Soft Machine, and King Crimson, but for my money the marginal ones provided the best sounds you’ll hear. Enjoy.